


The Best-Laid Plans

by CirrusGrey



Category: The Magnus Archives (Podcast)
Genre: Episode Related, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Martin returns, The Extinction, but it's soft and fluffy so I don't care, episode 151 spoilers, rating is for swears, theorizing that I fully expect to be proven wrong
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-10-04 09:50:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20469059
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CirrusGrey/pseuds/CirrusGrey
Summary: ...of mice and men often go awry.Martin isn't planning to come back.SPOILERS FOR MAG 151!!!





	The Best-Laid Plans

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so. This is my fiftieth published story. I've been writing for a little over two years; I've been writing for the Magnus Archives for a little under one. (Seriously, my first TMA fic was published September third. Aka three days from now.) Thirty-two of those fifty stories are TMA, and they make up nine of my ten highest word counts, so... yeah. I've written a lot.
> 
> I honestly never thought I'd be this inspired to write for anything. Yet as I say this I have several more stories sitting in my drafts, just waiting to be finished. And a lot of that is because of you: my readers and fellow writers, the other fans who have come on this <del>horrible, heartbreaking, going to kill us all emotionally</del> wonderful journey with me into the Magnus Archives.
> 
> So I just wanted to take this opportunity to say thank you. Thank you for welcoming me into this fandom, and for inspiring me to write. You're all a pretty fantastic bunch, and it is a delightful thing to know you. 
> 
> Anyway. Enough sappy stuff. On to the end of the world...

“You have to tell him.”

“Yeah, he deserves to know.”

The voices were soft, but Jon could still hear the heated whispers through the thin wood of his office door. 

“Look, I made a promise. I’m not going to break that.”

“Basira…” Daisy’s voice was gentle. “Put yourself in his shoes. Promises be damned, the man needs to know.”

Basira sighed. Her next words were just as gentle. “Isn’t it kinder if he doesn’t?”

“Look at it this way,” Jon could almost see Daisy’s shrug, it was so strong in her voice. “How would  _ you _ feel if it was  _ me?” _

There was a moment of silence; then the office door opened, and Basira leaned around the frame.

“Hey, Jon. You got a moment?”

“Sure.” He raised his eyebrows expectantly, trying to pretend he hadn’t been listening. “What’s up?”

“It’s… well, it’s Martin. I ran into him the other day.”

“Oh.” Jon tried to ignore the way his heart leapt at that, and the pang of jealousy that it was  _ Basira, _ and not himself, Martin had chosen to speak to. “How… how is he?”

“He’s…” Basira sighed again, and came into the office fully. She pulled up a chair and sat down across from Jon. “He looked tired. And he’d just finished speaking with Simon Fairchild.”

“Wait, what?” Jon sat forward. “Simon Fairchild? The one who-?”

“The very same.”

“Oh. That’s…”

“Yeah.” Basira ran a hand down her face. “Apparently he’s working with Lukas. I’ve got the tape, if you want to listen. But… there’s something else you should know.” 

She fell silent. After a moment, Jon realized she wasn’t going to continue without prompting. “And that is…?”

“Look. I know you want to trust Martin. And I get it, I do. You think he’s just… just gathering information, that he’ll come to us when he’s ready. But that’s not what’s happening here, Jon. It’s not. He’s not going to come running back for advice, or sweeping back in to save the day, or…”

Jon huffed, aggrieved. “Okay, okay, I get the point. You think he’s involved in some giant conspiracy, in over his head or plotting against us. But we have to trust him, Basira. Martin’s not an idiot, he knows what he’s doing, and I refuse to believe that he’d betray us.”

“That’s not what I’m saying.”

“Then what  _ are _ you saying, hm? Because that’s certainly what it sounds like to me.”

“I’m just…” She leaned forward, and her face softened. “I’m just trying to tell you. I don’t think he’s coming back. Ever.”

Jon scoffed. “He may not need our help with this, but I find it hard to believe he’d just ditch us when it’s all over.”

“Jon. He’s not planning to come back.”

The penny dropped. 

Jon’s heart followed soon after. Martin wouldn’t… he  _ couldn’t… _

Basira was still talking. “…promised him I wouldn’t tell you, but Daisy and Melanie think you ought to know. So you can prepare yourself, if nothing el-”

Jon’s chair scraped across the floor as he stood, knocking over a stack of papers in his haste. He ignored them, pushing around the desk to the door. 

“Wait!” Basira stood, blocking his path. “Jon, you can’t do this. Martin’s made his choice.”

“Get out of my way.” 

She grabbed his arm, holding him in place. “Look, you’re the one who’s so set on trusting him. If you  _ really _ trust him, you’ll let it  _ be  _ his choice. Not yours.”

“Let go of me.”

“You can’t-”

“Let go of me, Basira.” His voice was quiet, measured. Powerful. “Don’t make me hurt you.”

She dropped his arm. “You wouldn’t.”

“I don’t want to have to find out.” He pushed past her, and she didn’t try to stop him. 

Daisy and Melanie were standing just outside the door. They both gave him grim looks as he passed, but neither spoke. 

Jon managed to make it almost all the way out of the Archives at a normal pace. Halfway up the stairs out of the basement his resolve broke, terror flooding through him in white-hot waves. He couldn’t- if Martin- 

He began to run. 

The rest of the Institute was quite used to strange behavior from the Archives staff, inured to it by years of experience. Still, Jon received plenty of odd looks as he tore through the building, hurtling down corridors and up staircases, sending people scurrying out of his way to avoid a collision. He didn’t really know where he was heading until he was standing outside the door to Elias’s old office, out of breath and heart hammering, pushing sweat-damp hair back from his forehead with one hand. But where else would he find Martin?

He threw open the door. 

For one second – one brief second – he thought he could see him. A shadow by the computer, the faint click of a keyboard – but the room was empty. Or if it wasn’t, the occupant was no longer in a state where Jon could see him. 

He stumbled into the room, legs shaky from exertion and fear. 

“Martin?” There was no response from the quiet room. “Martin, I need to talk to you.” Silence. “Please?”

He hated how unsteady his voice was. It always happened when he was afraid, or upset, or… most strong emotions, really. Though, if he were to be honest with himself, this situation more than any justified losing his composure. 

“Please, Martin, Basira told me that- she said- look, we can find another way!” He was gesturing, futilely, talking to the empty room as though it might suddenly open up and return Martin to him. “You don’t have to do this alone! Just- just come to us, once you find out what Peter’s plan is, we can help you, we can-” There were tears on his cheeks. When had he started crying? He suspected it had been long before he reached the room, yet one more reason for the odd looks from the other Institute staff. He realized, suddenly, that he’d left the door open behind him. Even if Martin had been here when he first entered the room, there was no reason to believe he’d remained. 

_ “Please, _ Martin, if you can hear me, you can't- I can't _ lose _ you Martin,  _ please!  _ I  _ know _ that's why you didn't want to tell me, but please-" his voice caught, and he choked back a sob. "Please."

His knees hit the floor, legs giving out beneath him. He slumped forward, catching himself on one hand. The room was silent and still around him. Nothing moved. No one spoke. 

Jon's breathing was heavy, and he was still shaking, trying desperately to process what he knew was true.

Martin was gone. And he wasn't coming back.

~~~~~

Jon barely lifted his head when Basira entered the room. She sighed, walking over and sliding her phone across the desk to where his blank stare rested. 

"You seeing this?"

"Seeing what." He spoke in a flat monotone. He'd been speaking in a flat monotone for a week.

"The news." She snatched her phone back, scrolling through articles. "Forest fires, deadly storms, world tensions on the rise. Studies showing there's more trash in the ocean than anyone thought, drones going rogue and causing chaos. It's hell out there, Jon."

"Disasters and catastrophes, global upheavals and whatnot." Jon finally looked at her, grimacing. "Right on schedule."

"You think this is-?"

"The Extinction. It's coming."

Basira clicked her phone off decisively. "Right. So what are we going to do about it?"

"Do about it?" Jon laugh was bitter and broken. "There's nothing we  _ can  _ do. Either Peter's plan works, and Martin sacrifices himself to save the day; or it doesn't, and he sacrifices himself for nothing. Either way, the world ends.  _ My  _ world ends."

Basira breathed out sharply through her nose. "I'm not going to take this lying down.  _ You  _ may have given up on humanity - I still think it's worth fighting for."

"Then by all means, go fight." Jon waved a hand at the door. "In what little time you have left."

"What's that supposed to-"

A tremor rocked through the building, rattling the walls and sending centuries-old dust cascading through the air. Basira grabbed at the desk for support. 

"It's happening  _ now?" _

Jon just nodded. 

_ "Shit." _ And with that, she was gone, off to find Daisy and Melanie, to do what they could to save lives and protect people from the cataclysm. 

Jon sat at his desk, unmoving, as another shockwave ripped through the building. It wasn't actually an earthquake - at least, not by the scientific definition, not a shifting of tectonic plates or anything easily explainable like that. But it certainly felt like one. By the screams drifting down from the upper floors of the Institute, it was as destructive as one, too. Possibly more.

The third tremor was the strongest yet, and Jon was thrown from his chair. He lay on the floor where he landed, head spinning. Not just from the fall: information was pouring in from all corners now, all the grim and hopeless details of the chaos taking place above searing through his mind and driving out any ordered thought. Shelves falling in the Library, protective casings shattering in Artifact Storage, cracks in the foundations and people screaming, screaming. Basira grabbed Daisy's hand, pulling her to her feet and bracing herself against the shaking wall to balance them both, Melanie stumbled along an upper corridor alone choking on the dust, Rosie hid under her desk, Diana and Sonja barricaded themselves into the canteen, Peter Lukas faded out of reality with a smile, Martin- 

Martin.

Martin was  _ here. _

Jon grabbed the side of his desk, pulling himself to his feet. Martin was  _ here, _ in the  _ Archives,  _ and if Martin was here, all hope was not yet lost. 

It felt like an eternity of stumbling steps to get to the door and turn the handle, and longer even than that to make his way from his office to the Archives proper. Martin was close to the center of the expansive room, surrounded by tottering shelving and dust. There was smoke here, too, acrid and bitter. They were surrounded by paper, yet the smell was of melted plastic and chemicals.

"Martin!" Jon coughed, batting at the smoke as he tried to wade closer.  _ "Martin!" _

"Get out of here, Jon!" Martin didn't turn around, gaze fixed on something in front of him. As he got closer, Jon could see what it was.

There was a... hole, in the floor. Only not a hole, something else entirely, something dark and strange and... oily. It was the source of the smoke. And, Jon realized, Martin was poised to jump in.

_ "No!"  _ He lunged forward as Martin moved, grabbing him by the arm and yanking him back. "You can't!"

Martin spun around furiously, face locked in a snarl. "Let me  _ go, _ Jon!"

_ "No. _ I've lost too much - I'm not losing you as well!" Another tremor hit, sending them both stumbling closer to the edge of the hole. Jon tightened his grip on Martin's arm. 

"Let go, you're going to get hurt!" Martin tried to push Jon away. 

"Oh, and we can't have  _ that, _ now, can we?"

"No! We can't! No one else needs to get hurt, you have to let me-" 

_ "No!"  _ The world was falling to pieces around them, and Jon didn't care. All that mattered was keeping Martin safe. The rest could go to hell. "I'm not losing you!"

"Jon, I  _ have _ to do this, okay? It's too late for alternate plans or, or minimizing the damage, or- I have to do this, there's no one else, the  _ world's  _ at stake, Jon!"

"There's no point in saving a world without you in it!"

"There is to me!" Martin tore his arm from Jon's grip, backing away.

"But it might not even  _ happen!  _ It could fizzle out on its own, you could be doing this for  _ nothing,  _ it-"

"I can't take that risk." He shook his head, resolve firm in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Jon. Goodbye."

_ "Martin!"  _

Jon reached out to him as he stepped back, but he was too far away to do anything. Martin turned toward the hole, a determined smile on his face, and slowly collapsed backward, unconscious.

Jon blinked.

"Sorry I didn't get here sooner. What a mess, am I right?"

Melanie stood between Martin's unconscious form and the definitely-not-a-normal-hole, still clutching the old fire extinguisher she had hit him over the head with. 

_ "Melanie?"  _

She grinned. "The one and only. Daisy texted me you were down here alone, I figured someone should check in. Good thing, too. I thought you said Martin knew what he was doing."

"But- but why- how- I thought you were done with..." Jon gestured vaguely around the room, the dust and the smoke. "All this?"

Melanie shrugged, looking away. "Guess I just don't want to be the only one with a second chance around here." She glanced at the hole behind her. "And I'm banking on this thing failing. But if the world ends, I'm blaming you." 

Jon chuckled weakly. "Fair enough."

He stumbled forward the last few steps to Martin's side, dropping to his knees beside him. He was... happy. Tremors still rocked the Institute, the strange chemical smoke was still drifting around, the world was still ending, but...

He could understand Simon Fairchild's perspective, now. At least a small part of it. There was no guarantee the Extinction would fizzle out on its own, he and Melanie may have just doomed the world, but...

Either the Extinction would appear, and the world would end; or it wouldn't, and life would go on. Either way, he wouldn't have to face a life without Martin in it. It was a rather selfish view of things, to be fair, but... one way or another,  _ Jon's  _ world was safe. And he found that the end of the world as a whole didn't scare him half as much, with Martin - conscious or not - by his side. 

Another tremor shook the building, but it was weaker. The smoke started to thin.

Melanie glanced around, frowning, as the oily darkness of the hole began to shrink. "Huh. Was that it, then?"

"I- I don't know." He reached out, put a hand on Martin's shoulder. "I think so."

"Guess he's coming home after all, then."

"I- yes." The realization hit him like a slap, shaking him out of shocked inactivity. He lunged forward, gathering Martin in his arms, cradling him to his chest and burying his face in his hair.  _ He was coming back. _ "Thank you. Thank you, Melanie.  _ Thank you."  _ The words were at high risk of dissolving into sobs; Melanie snorted, setting the extinguisher on the floor and sitting down across from Jon.

"He's not going to be too happy when he wakes up. Finding out all this-" she gestured vaguely, managing to sum up months of enforced solitude and almost-lies, "-has been for nothing."

Jon shook his head, not lifting it from where it had come to rest on Martin's shoulder. He was so... warm. So solid. So  _ here. _ "It's not. We- the world might not have needed a sacrifice in order not to end, but it wasn't for nothing." 

"If you say so." The tremors were down to almost nothing, and the smoke was nothing more than an acrid trace in the air. The hole in the floor had vanished, leaving behind the same old splintered wooden flooring as ever. Melanie leaned back on her hands. "We should probably get Martin somewhere more comfortable, he might be out for a while. I hit him pretty hard."

"Okay." Jon turned his head, pressing a kiss into Martin's hair and doing his best to memorize the feel of it. Tangled curls, smelling faintly of smoke and faintly of some flowery shampoo. A heavy weight in his arms, soft around the middle where Jon clutched him tight. Slow, warm breaths puffing against his neck. Even though Martin was back, there was no guarantee he'd ever be allowed to do this again. Best to learn it now, then, while he could. 

After a moment he pulled back. Melanie raised an eyebrow at him, and he grinned sheepishly. "Sorry, just a bit... relieved."

"I never would have guessed."

He flushed. "Just- let's just move him. Can you get his feet?"

~~~~~

They put him in the old document storage room. 

Basira and Daisy stopped by briefly to report on the fallout. It was... bad. Not just in the Institute, but over the whole city: buildings damaged, people injured. No fatality list, yet, but it was only a matter of time. It was the same around the world - all the disasters Basira had been following on the news were trailing off, dying out... but there was still the aftermath to deal with, and it would take a long time.

Melanie went with them when they left, setting off again to join with the emergency crews helping the injured. Jon stayed by Martin's side. 

He sat on the floor, leaning back against the low cot. Everything was crashing down on him, all the fear and worry from the last week, the disbelief and denial. He still couldn't quite believe that Martin had planned to... that he had come so close to...

Jon pulled his knees to his chest, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. 

He was here now, though. 

As if to prove his point, Martin shifted on the cot behind him, turning onto his side with a sigh. One arm draped over the edge, fingertips just barely brushing against Jon's sleeve. Jon took a deep breath, leaning slightly to the side and into the touch.

He was  _ here. _

Martin sighed again, and twitched. His hand lifted away from Jon's arm, reaching up to scrub at his own eyes, and he blinked blearily in the low light.

"Wha' happened?"

Jon quickly scooted around to face him. "Melanie knocked you out. It's all okay now, Martin, you don't have to worry."

"Wh...?" Martin tried to sit up, holding a hand to his head, before giving up and laying back down. He frowned, blinking his eyes into focus. "Jon?" 

"Yeah." Jon nodded, eyes scanning Martin's face. He wasn't concussed, he  _ knew _ he wasn't concussed, he was just... sleepy and confused. Jon felt his heart melting, and he smiled softly. "Yeah, I'm here."

"Hm..." Martin closed his eyes, smiling. Then they shot open. "Wait, no, you can't- why- what happened?" He struggled to sit up again. Jon put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down.

"It's okay, Martin, it's all over. The Extinction failed."

Martin stared at him for a second, eyes wide. "How?"

Jon drew his hand back slowly, biting his lip. "I don't know."

"It can't have just stopped on its own."

"It was always a possibility, Martin, I  _ heard _ Fairchild's statement."

"Yeah, but it can't have- it couldn't- all this can't have been for  _ nothing!" _ There was a despairing note to Martin's voice.

"It wasn't." Martin scoffed, rolling over onto his back and staring at the ceiling. "It  _ wasn't, _ Martin. Look, I don't- I don't  _ know _ for certain, but I  _ suspect _ that you played one key role in stopping it that you wouldn't have been able to if you'd been here the whole time."

"Which is?"

"You came back."

Martin turned his head, frowning at Jon. "That's it?"

"That's it." Jon scooted closer to the cot, crossing his arms over the side and resting his chin on them. "I was terrified, Martin. Not of the Extinction, but of losing you. As soon as Melanie knocked you out - as soon as I realized you weren't going to be disappearing forever - I was just so relieved. It wouldn't have mattered to me, in that moment, if the world  _ had  _ ended. All the fear went away, and I was just- just happy to have you back."

Martin pressed two fingers to his temple, screwing his eyes shut as he thought it over. "You can't honestly be telling me the Extinction was stopped because you- because you missed me?"

"All I'm saying is that Peter went to an awful lot of trouble to get you in a situation where I thought I'd lost you."

Martin's eyes flew open. "Are you saying Peter was  _ counting _ on me to give it all up and go back to you?"

"I don't know. It  _ may  _ have just fizzled out on its own. But I doubt having that level of...  _ acceptance _ at the heart of its birth could have helped it much."

"Oh god..." Martin's voice went soft. "It was you..."

"Sorry?"

"Simon said- he said Peter needed me to use something in the Institute. Something that belonged to the Beholding. I thought- he never told me what it was, I thought it was just going to be instinct, or, or,  _ me, _ just by virtue of being touched by the Eye, or... it was  _ you." _

"Oh." 

"I'm so sorry, Jon."

"Don't be." Jon smiled faintly. "It's all worked out in the end, yeah?"

"I guess."

They fell silent. Martin turned his face to the ceiling again, and Jon stayed by the edge of the cot, watching him in profile. Martin certainly didn't look happy about all of this, but... he was here. Close enough that Jon could see the little twitches of muscle as he bit his lip, the shadow his eyelashes made against his skin when he blinked. 

He took a deep breath, rolling over again to face Jon. His head lay on the pillow mere inches away from where Jon's rested on his folded arms. 

"Did you really mean it?" Martin's voice was soft. His eyes scanned Jon's face, the small furrow in his brow easily visible from this close.

"Hm? Mean what?"

"When you said... you said a world without me in it wasn't worth saving. Did you mean it?"

"Oh." Jon looked away, uncomfortable. He could still feel Martin's eyes on him, questioning and gentle. "Um, yes. I know it's not... not exactly a _ healthy _ mindset, but in the moment..."

"Jon," Martin reached out to him, brushing his fingers over Jon's cheek. His eyes were wide with wonder. Jon's own drifted shut, and he leaned into the touch.

"Martin."

Martin stroked his thumb over Jon's cheekbone. "I've missed you, you know."

"Yeah," Jon's breath hitched, halfway to a sob. "You too."

"And I'd've probably felt the same, in your shoes."

He opened his eyes. Martin was staring at him, smiling softly, and his hand moved around to cup the back of Jon's head. Jon moved with the touch, leaning in and pressing his lips gently against Martin's. Martin sighed into his mouth, and Jon reveled in the feel of his lips moving softly against his own. He lifted an arm, looping it around Martin's shoulders to pull himself closer, leaning over the edge of the cot into Martin's warmth.

Eventually he pulled back, ducking his head to tuck it against Martin's chest. Martin laughed, a quiet rumble Jon felt more than heard. He reached out, hooking his arms under Jon's shoulders and tugging. 

"Come on, then."

It took a bit of maneuvering, but soon enough they were both on the cot, arms wrapped around each other and Jon burrowing into Martin's warmth. Martin pressed a kiss to his hair.

"I'm sorry I left. Even if it saved the world."

"I think Melanie's the one who gets credit for saving the world this time, actually." Martin chuckled. "But I'm sorry too. For- for going and dying on you."

"It's alright, Jon." Martin sighed, tightened his arms around him. "You came back, didn't you?"

"So did you." Jon brought his head up, kissing him again. "So did you."

Somewhere above, in the chaos of the city, emergency responders joined with ordinary citizens to hunt through fallen debris, working together to free those trapped by heavy masonry, clean and bandage wounds, set broken bones. In the Institute, Basira's calm voice held sway, directing the rescue efforts. Daisy sat with those in shock, gently talking them down from the edge, and Melanie moved from group to group, motivating, encouraging, helping put the world to right, one piece at a time. In the basement, Jon and Martin curled together, reunited and inseparable, talking and kissing and just holding each other. 

The Extinction had been stopped. And life went on.

**Author's Note:**

> And if you listened very carefully, you could hear the faint sound of two men in a prison cell, discussing plans and strategies and whether or not things had gone according to each of their individual predictions. It sounded like: "Pay up."


End file.
